Page 43 of Last First Time
I pull Towanda into the courthouse parking garage. All the spots in here are tiny, clearly made for those ridiculous big city sports cars and not real vehicles like my beautiful truck. I manage to squeeze her in a double spot near the end of one wall, then shove my suitcases back into the cab. Yep, still not in Valentine. Yet.
The front plaza of the courthouse is filled with a bevy of news reporters. I even see a couple of vans pulled partway onto the sidewalk, and the sight makes my pulse kick up. Is there some sort of high-profile murder trial going on here? I haven’t paid any attention to the news except the little bit about me and Reed, so I am more than a bit in the dark about all the goings on at the courthouse. Valentine is far enough away from the big city that it probably isn’t something that I would have paid attention to anyway.
One of the reporters jostles against me as I head toward the doors. “Hey, we were here first,” he snarls. Then he looks at me and pauses, clearly thinking about where he knows me from. Well, shit. This isn’t going to be good. His eyebrows shoot up. “Wait, aren’t you….”
I don’t wait for him to finish what he’s saying. I shiver a little and hustle toward the doors. The two big guards at the door see me heading toward them and one of them reaches toward his belt. Sheesh. Am I actually going to get tased outside the courthouse when I’m trying to come to Reed’s rescue?
The reporter behind me is yelling something, but I don’t turn around. Hopefully the guards will figure out quickly that I am not the problem here, but rather it’s this red-faced paparazzi behind me.
One of the guards gestures to me to move over to the side of him, and the other moves forward to stop the man chasing me, who has attracted a small crowd of other reporters and cameramen.
I don’t think anyone knows who I am for sure other than possibly the guy who confronted me, but I don’t want to find out the hard way that I’m wrong about it. And even one of them knowing is enough. Word will spread as quickly as the photographs did, and then there will be questions about me and Reed that I’m not ready to answer.
The guard who moved me off to one side gives me a moment to catch my breath. “Miss, I’m going to need to see some photo ID before you can go in. If you’re here for the press conference, then you need to wait out there.”
“What? No, I’m here to post bond.” My hands are shaking. I haven’t been chased since I was a little kid playing tag, and I didn’t like it much then either.
The uniformed man nods at me. “Okay. If you can show me your driver’s license, then I can buzz you inside and you can take care of your business.” He waits a moment, then I reach for my bag and produce my license. He looks at it then at me.
“I know, I know. It’s literally the worst picture ever taken of me in the history of the world. But yeah, that was me back in the days when I thought getting a perm was the best idea I’d ever had.” I roll my eyes, but also move to position myself behind the guard. I can hear shouting behind him, see the glare from a few of the video camera lights.
The guard looks at me again. “Are you in some sort of trouble, miss? Do you know what the reporters want with you?”
I sigh. “There was a story about me in the paper last night. One of the men in the crowd recognized me and now probably wants to ask for details about me and the ultra hot mayor of Valentine and what we like to do in bed.”
The man stands up straighter. “Reed Harrington? Yeah, apparently someone set up a press conference for him here this morning. What kind of idiot gives a press conference fresh on the steps of the federal courthouse?”
I glare at him. “Well I can guarantee it wasn’t him, because he’s been in jail since yesterday afternoon. So it was either his campaign manager, his lawyer, or the bullshit artist who is unfortunately his father. And whichever one of those jerkfaces it was, I’m going to punch them in the throat.”
The guard’s face relaxes into a surprised smile before smoothing back out into well-rehearsed impassivity. “In that case, you may definitely go inside Miss Troudeau.” He nods at me. “We’ll keep these people out of the building and away from you, I promise. You don’t have to answer any of their questions, no matter what they say to you.”
I shrug. Are there any answers for what’s happening between me and Reed? He left me waiting at his place last night, but it turns out it wasn’t his fault. Then I panicked and made a run for it, but here I am, trying to come to his rescue despite all the drama. Hell, I’m not trying. I’m about to fork over every single penny of my emergency savings, my precious safety money, all to bail his gorgeous rich boy ass out of jail.
The guard buzzes me in, and I head through the metal detectors. Outside, I can hear the murmuring noise of the swarm of reporters. It sounds like they are going to storm the castle or something. I glance back toward the doors, but the two guards are standing there like statues. The guard at the metal detector watches me carefully. “They won’t get in here. Trust me.”
I take a deep breath and will my racing pulse to calm down. This is basically my worst nightmare. Not only does everyone know about me and Reed and have an opinion about it, but now they want to tear me apart in public. And I look like I haven’t slept much lately. At least if I was going to be unwillingly dragged into the public eye, I feel like I should have gotten a spa day first.
“Upstairs on three. You want the second door on the left.” He hands me back my bag and waggles the bowl with Towanda’s keys in them at me. “Good luck, ma’am.”
“Thanks.” I wriggle my shoulders a little, trying to shake out some of the tension. “I’m probably going to need it.”
Then I walk to the elevators and prepare to sign over every penny I’ve so carefully saved over all these years, all for the sake of a man who everyone agrees could do so much better.
And that means I am officially the stupidest person I know.
Reed
Icome out of the men’s room still looking ragged, but at least a little bit closer to human than before. Now I have to figure out what the press conference is supposed to be about and why everyone is acting like I’m supposed to be there, and then somehow get out of here, catch a ride, and find Kar and convince her that I’m sorry. No problem.
Huey and Louie are lingering out in the hall. Louie hands me the envelope with my phone and wallet inside. I eye him a touch suspiciously. “So, can you tell me what’s going on now? Why am I getting my things back and what’s all this about a press conference?”
The two men look at each other, and I narrow my eyes at them. “No. No weird giant man eye conversations you two. Just talk to me. Please.”
Huey shrugs. “Somebody posted your bail right before we got here, so you’re officially out on bond right now.”
I blink a few times, shock rendering me speechless. “What? I thought I had a huge cash only bond. I told my lawyer I couldn’t post it until I got a few assets liquidated. Like a few weeks from now at best.”
Both the marshals look at me like I’m speaking a foreign language. “Yeah, well, looks like somebody else took care of it. The cash bond was posted before we even got here. Weren’t you listening to anything being said during your appearance?”
